In The Space of a Moment
by almostcompletelysane
Summary: In the space of a moment, everything can change. So what happens when our beloved Draco Malfoy undergoes one such a moment? Who will he turn to for help? If anyone at all.
1. a pretty witch and starry skys

**Disclaimer: I don't own them, simple as that.**

Draco was in the end of his 6th year at Hogwarts school of Witch Craft and Wizardry, and a firm follower of the dark lord. Yes he was a hypocrite, Draco was smart enough to recognize that, but at least he had the right idea. At least, that was what he had always believed, until one fateful night, not four months before his initiation was to take place.

His father had flooed into the Slytherin common room, as planned, after everyone had gone to bed. Draco was waiting for him. With out a word, the elder Malfoy walked out of the fireplace, dusted himself off, and with a nod at his son, threw another handful of floo powder into the flames and said something Draco couldn't quite make out before shoving him into the emerald flames. The next place Draco remembered being was in the depths of what looked like a forest, trees so dense that what little light present filtered in from the gaps between the leaves above. Lucius, still as silent as in the common room, walked forward through the tightly packed trees to a small clearing. Here the trees upper branches had fanned out, blocking all light from above. Draco gradually began to make out shapes in the darkness, shapes of dark hooded figures, murmuring to each other, all seemingly anticipating something.

Draco almost jumped a foot in the air when he suddenly heard his father hiss dangerously in his ear

"don't you dare embarrass me boy, I brought you here because I thought you might enjoy this, don't make me regret it"

Draco just nodded silently, and with that his father stood up straight and called out into the surrounding trees

"bring it forward!" Two hooded figures emerged from the trees in front of Draco and into the empty space of the clearing, all the other death eaters going silent and the air hung heavy with anticipation and excitement, and though he still had no idea what was going on, and Draco knew better than to ask. All would be revealed to him in time. The two dark robed men dropped something to the ground, a something that let out a small "oof" when it landed. Slowly the death eater's cargo started to move, and looked up, piercing blue green eyes locked on stony grey ones. The witch broke eye contact and slowly, painfully, got to her feet. He assumed that she was scared out of her wits. He was wrong. Draco scanned the battered witch, standing stock still and silent, she couldn't have been over 18. Her tattered dirty robes barely managed to cover a slender body covered with bruises. She had no doubted been beaten and raped repeatedly, senselessly, as with all half attractive female prisoners. Her long dark hair was matted and dirty, barely contained by a frayed ribbon a fiery shade of red. Her face was pretty, even bruised he could tell she must have been a beauty. But her eyes caught his attention the most. Draco had expected many things, fear, desperation, humiliation, the eyes of someone whose spirit had broken, but he never expected what he got. Instead of the fear he had anticipated all he saw were brilliant blue green eyes blazing with defiance, and anger. His father's voice brought his eyes away from hers.

"bow down before your superiors girl!"

"no" was all the response he got. He took a menacing step forward, glaring down at the girl.

"what did you say mudblood?" he spat, his voice dangerously low, Draco recognized that tone and shivered at the memory.

"no" the girl repeated slowly "I bow down to no one, least of all you". Lucius' normally pale skin tinged pink with anger.

"BOW!" he shouted down at her, the veins popping out in his neck. She simply shrugged her shoulders and leaned against a tree

"no" she repeated simply.

"looks like someone needs to be taught a lesson, mudblood" he growled and taking out his wand and pointing it toward the witch yelled "Crucio!"

Draco closed his eyes, he knew what was coming, and for some reason it didn't give him the satisfaction it should have, he couldn't watch her get tortured. But the screams never came, he opened his eyes, and there was the girl, still standing, her back against the tree, glaring at the man trying to make her bow down before him, silent. The only sign of her pain was the tightness of her facial muscles, and her hands clenched into fists, fingernails digging into her palms, a drop of blood dripping from where she had clenched her hands so hard her nails had broken the skin. She knew what would happen if she defied him, but it seems she didn't care, even if it meant death. He stared at the witch in astonishment, a new respect growing for her despite himself.

"damnit girl scream" he muttered under his breath, he knew that, having been on the receiving end of many of a cruciartus(sp?) curse from his father, he would ease up when he heard the screams, not before. He watched as his father lowered his wand, his eyes slightly widened in suppressed surprise, he had expected her to scream and cry, beg for mercy, for her life, just like all the others had before her. And then, she delivered the largest shock of all, she laughed. Another death eater stepped forward

"what are you laughing at mudblood?" he asked, in a gravely voice dangerously low. "I'm laughing at you" and for the 3rd time that night Draco's jaw dropped, what the fuck was she doing? Did she want to be killed?

"and why pray tell are you laughing at us, when you're nothing but a filthy little mudblood bitch, no better than scum?" he asked, the ends of his lips curling up in a cruel smile.

"do I really need to tell you" she asked almost exasperatedly

"please do" he responded, his cruel smile resolute.

"well I'll start with the obvious, you've sold your souls to a half blooded hypocritical fool who wants to eradicate all those with muggle blood, and become blind to the fact that blood doesn't make a difference in a witch, and you can't even see that you're fighting a battle you will never win. I feel sorry for you frankly, you've lost sight of everything important" she replied bluntly, her voice clear. The girl never ceased to amaze him, standing up to Lucius Malfoy was one thing when he was your father, but now, even at his scariest, the girl never faltered, and her gaze never wavered.

"NO ONE SPEAKS OF THE DARK LORD IN SUCH A WAY!" Lucius shouted, all control gone.

"YOU WILL PAY FOR YOU DISRESPECT!" there was a pause in which the only sounds that could be heard was Lucius's heavy breathing and the hoot of a far off owl before Lucius spoke again, raising his wand "AVADA KEDAVERA!" A flash of green light and the girl slumped back against the tree, her eyes closed, and her lips inexplicably turned up in a slight smile, like she knew something they didn't.

He smiled a forced, joyless smile; deep down he felt something from the depths of his mind screaming how wrong this was. The other death eaters were silent no longer, genuine smiles on their faces, evil grins, like this was proof of their superiority, that the witch was dead and they weren't.

Draco looked back at her, away from the other death eaters congratulating his father on a job well done; even in death, her pretty features were curled in the knowing smile, and it was hard to believe that someone with her spirit could, with a flick of his father's wand, be dead, never to rise again, as she had so many times before.

Is this what it meant to a death eater? To kill and enjoy it? Not for revenge, or for power, or malice, or even in self defense, those he could understand, but simply for the joy of killing? And an innocent no less, someone who had never done anything warranting this type of blatant disregard for the human life, she had simply been born into the wrong family. They acted like it was her fault, as she had chosen to be who she was, chosen who her family was or chosen to be a witch.

When all along all she had been was another witch who had been trying to get along with her life. She was someone's daughter, someone's sister, maybe even someone's wife or mother, and they would never know what happened to her, never find out about her life taken heartlessly on a starry night.

She had shown more dignity in death than his father had shown in his whole life, bowing down to kiss the dark lord's robes on threat of torture and death. Well she had known both, and never once did she give in, or even bow. She had been through so much already, yet she didn't beg, or plead, or cry; she stood straight and defiant.

And Draco had to respect her for that; it didn't matter whether she had been a muggle or pureblood. And in these realizations he knew he could never do it.

He could never become a death eater, he could never bow down to the dark lord, he could never kill and love it as they did, he could never become one of them. He could never become everything that had been expected of him, he could not become his father.


	2. for rembrance, as a reminder

**HI again thank you to my one reviewer so far (though it has only been a few hours I can't exactly expect many) - Kesler, virtual cookies for you, I'm glad you like it

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A hiss in his ear brought Draco out of his thoughts and back into reality.

"Isn't it beautiful?" he queried, cold grey eyes so like his own resting upon the body of the pretty witch.

"This is what the dark lord works so hard for, isn't it wonderful? It's things like this that make you all the more grateful for what he is trying to do." he continued

"yes father" Draco said quietly, knowing there could be no other answer.

* * *

The next night found him still out of Hogwarts, as his father had decided to keep him for the weekend. He was now wandering the grounds of Malfoy Manor, in whose very forest the pretty witch had died only the night before. Passing through the trees, velvety darkness engulfed the young Slytherin as he searched for the clearing where the previous nights exploits had taken place. He didn't even know why he was, or where it was. He hadn't even known it was the Malfoy Manor forest until he had left it, supposedly to go to sleep. But sleep was the last thing he got; he couldn't stop thinking about her. Lost in his thoughts, he tripped on an exposed tree root, landing unceremoniously face first on the ground. Grumbling to himself, he got up and brushed the leaves off his clothes, and looked around. It was the clearing from the night before. He was almost disappointed to find that it was empty, with no sign of there ever having been a death eater gathering or the murder of an innocent witch, though it was Draco's guess that last night was not the first of either of those things to take place there. Sitting in the leaves covering the forest floor, he just stared at the ground in front of him, and thought. Something he seemed to be doing to much of lately. It was almost funny that the thing that his father had been so confident would strengthen his faith in the dark lord, had only served to completely destroy it. A glint of scarlet caught his attention from across the clearing, barely noticeable among the leaves. He got up and went over to clear away the foliage and held up a slightly worn piece of scarlet ribbon, that just last night, had held back the long hair of the unnamed witch. He ran the length of the silky ribbon through his hands and tucked it into his pocket. It was something he would always keep, if only to remember her and to remember why he could never be what his father wanted him to be.

"Thank you" he whispered softly. Draco didn't really know who he was thanking, maybe just thanking god that he had come to realize how badly he had been mistaken, but more likely thanking the pretty witch who had sacrificed her life on a starry night.

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**A/N: ok I know this is really really really short but the next one will be much much longer and back at Hogwarts, I just wanted to get this little event out of the way.**


	3. hes, shes, and its

**A/N: hello again to my one reviewing reader! I may have other readers who simply can't figure out how to click the tiny little bluish button on the bottom left hand side of the page and type in what they thought, sigh it really would be a good skill for them to learn…. And you know, I'm not going to be one of those annoying authors who says they wont update until they get x number of reviews but it does encourage me to update a little faster…maybe, because I know it took me a long time to update this, I think like over a month, oh whoops, almost two now (sorry!) and I promise I'll try never to do that ever again but I make no promises, my life is a bit hectic.**

**So yeah….. I know I know, long author's note, but you'll forgive...I hope…and now I give you DUN DUN DUN…….CHAPTER #3!**

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Draco flooed back to Hogwarts the very next day, during breakfast. No one in Slytherin ever missed a meal, so the common room would be empty. Or so he thought. When the tired blonde opened his eyes again in his common room, he came face to face with an expectant looking Pansy Parkinson, the very person he didn't want to see at the moment, and coincidentally, his girlfriend.

He sighed, and braced himself as the eager girl flung her arms around his neck and kissed him wetly on the cheek. Ick.

"Hi pansy" he said flatly.

"Drakey!" she shrieked, making him wince as his head gave a dull throb.

"Why aren't you at breakfast?"

"So how was it?" she asked excitedly, completely ignoring his question, and kept talking, "I bet it was great, you are so lucky you know my dad would never let me go to one of those things did it beg and scream, I bet it did, worthless thing , it's a good feeling isn't it."

"What is?" he asked, the image of the girl swimming into his consciousness, her defiant sapphire eyes standing out against stark white skin.

"There's one less mudblood to muck up the wizarding wor-" he cut her off

"Yeah, it was great, listen I'm tired" said Draco coldly "I'm going to bed"

"Ok Drakey, tomorrow you can tell me _all_ about it"

"Right, sure pansy"

He paused and turned around at the base of the stairwell, "pansy?"

"Yeah Drakey poo?"

"She didn't beg."

With that he walked up the stairs into the 6th year boys' dormitory, not caring that classes were starting in twenty minutes, and remembering how much he despised the name Drakey.

Pansy simply stood where she was, had she really just heard her Draco, the Draco Malfoy, refer to a mudblood, as a 'she'?

Because of the impending classes, the dormitory was deserted as he rounded the corner to his room. The blonde walked over to his bed, which was the closet one to the window (enchanted to mirror the outside, much like the ceiling of the great hall, since they were in the dungeons) and pulled a vial of navy blue liquid out of his trunk. Dreamless sleep potion, and just enough left to last him until morning, when he would have to make some more. He drained it quickly, and fell onto his bed, pulling his deep green curtains closed as he did so.

* * *

Walking into the great hall that Monday was like walking into a bee hive for Hermione Granger. It was the first time she had been out of Gryffindor tower since Friday's dinner. Having had Harry or Ron bring something back for her at meals, she really just hadn't felt the need to make an appearance, preferring to read, or do school work.

And it was now quite obvious she had missed something in her absence. Hermione had never been a gossip monger, she preferred facts to rumors, and she wasn't about to go searching for the source of the excitement this time. It's not like she had long to wait before the news would come to her.

Seconds after she sat down at the Gryffindor table, Ginny Weasley bounded up beside her in a flurry of long red hair.

"You would _not_ believe what Amanda just told me!" at Hermione's silence she continued, obviously unperturbed by her lack of enthusiasm.

"Draco Malfoy is missing! No one's seen him since Friday!" she was practically squealing from the excitement of having heard this new bit of gossip.

Hermione looked sternly at Ron and his muttering, at the moment he was saying something like "it's about time, bloody git"

"Ron! What if something really happened to him?"

"Why do you care Hermione?" he snapped "isn't this the guy whose been torturing you for the last 6 year? How many times has that asshole called you a mudblood?"

"And when was the last time I cared Ron? You're no better, you start just as much as he does" she snapped right back, she really wasn't in the mood for one of his little Malfoy hating sprees at the moment, she hadn't had enough sleep for that this early in the morning.

"You're just sore at him because you can never come up with a comeback" Ginny added, and Hermione couldn't quite honestly deny the accuracy of the statement.

"And besides, no matter how much of a git he was, he was hot." She added calmly, taking a bite of egg.

Hermione almost sprayed her pumpkin juice all over the table. "Ginny!"

"Well, he _is_ the hottest guy here . . . besides Harry of course" It seemed she was still working on sounding like a dutiful girlfriend, no matter how much she acted the part.

"While I think Ron's pushing it, how can you consider someone as awful as Malfoy…hot?

"Um, because he is? Duh Hermione, come on. You've got to admit you've caught yourself staring at him once or twice, it's basically impossible not to."

"Not for me its not."

"Okay Mione, sure….HARRY!" shrieked Ginny suddenly when she saw Harry coming through the great hall doors.

Running from the table and to her boyfriend of three months, the red head threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. She had never been one for subtlety.

They walked back to the table with his arm around her waist, both smiling broadly and whispering in each others ears. They really were sickenly happy sometimes.

Hermione looked over at her own boyfriend. Ron was stuffing food into his mouth with amazing speed. She sighed. It wasn't that she didn't like Ron, she did, a lot. She just wasn't sure she loved him, as she had been telling him since he told her he loved her at Christmas. She had said it back, not wanting to hurt his feelings and had been regretting it ever since.

Ron had been pushing a lot farther lately than the usually shy red head ever had before, and she knew he wanted to have sex, and soon. But Hermione just couldn't picture it, it wasn't that she was a prude, but she had certain ideas about sex, some delusions she knew, but she just wanted her first time to be special, with someone she loved, who loved her back. She loved Ron, but she wasn't sure she loved him the way she should, she wasn't sure she was _in _love with him.

They had come close a few times. But every time his hand came to rest on the snap of her jeans or the band of her skirt, she just couldn't do it, her heart wouldn't let her.

It wasn't his fault. He was always the perfect gentleman, ok, so maybe he didn't have flawless table manners or the best study skills, and maybe he wasn't he most perceptive person on the face of the earth, but he was sweet and caring, and never pushed her farther than she wanted to go. He always accepted it when she said no. He respected her, and most of all: he wanted her, her, Hermione Granger, mini McGonagal, the school know-it-all, and he wanted her.

And even though she wasn't sure she loved him, she was in love with the feeling of being loved. She couldn't end it for this reason, she couldn't help it. She had grown attached to the feeling of safety that came with his always being there. She always had someone to pull her close or hold her hand, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to let that go, or if she even wanted to, despite his imperfections, at least he was there.

Currently he continuing to shovel food into his mouth and at the same time, attempting to talk to Dean Thomas, who was trying to conceal his look of disgust at the sight of his friend's half chewed food. Hermione couldn't blame him, she was grossed out too. She laid a gentle hand on Ron's shoulder. "Dear, chew, swallow, then speak." She said quietly into his ear.

He swallowed, "oh, sorry" he mumbled, before going on with his conversation. Hermione saw Dean give her a look of gratitude, "you're welcome" she mouthed over Ron's shoulder, then smiled and pushed away her almost full plate, she wasn't really hungry anymore.

"Guys, I'm going to the library, I'll see you later Ron" she said, getting up from her seat and pecking Ron softly on the cheek.

"K Hun, I'll se you in potions."

Ugh, potions, she had almost forgotten about potions. Hermione hated potions, even though she knew how necessary they were. This was for two reasons. One was the very existence of Draco Malfoy, as potions gave him ample opportunity to attempt to terrorize her. The other was much simpler; Snape was an ass.

But maybe today, due to the glaring absence of one of those problems, it wouldn't be unbearable.

Or not.

Being that his favorite student was missing, Snape wasn't exactly having a wonderful day in the neighborhood. And from her first step into the potions dungeon Hermione could tell it wasn't going to be a pleasant day in potions class either. She sat down in her assigned seat and pulled out her essay, along with very well read volume: Hogwarts, a History. It always numbed her brain when she was thinking too much, and therefore was something she read very often. Slowly the rest of the class filed in, Harry and Ron trailing in just before the bell. And when Pansy stumbled in five minutes late, the yelling that followed on Snape's part almost drove the pug faced girl to tears. Unfortunately for them, it only got worse as time went on. When Snape ordered them all to take out their essays, everyone had brought theirs, except of course, Ron. Hermione heard the red head swear quietly beside her. His essay was sitting on his bedside table, ink newly dried, completed. And needless to say, Snape wasn't happy.

"Mr. Weasley. If you do not want to come to class prepared perhaps it would be better if you simply did not come to class at all. And perhaps if you find yourself above this class, maybe you should just return home, since school, seems to be such a trivial thing to you at present, what Weasley, too busy ogling some whore to do the assigned work? And after all, if you do not have the dedication to make it through this class, exactly how do you expect to make it through 7th year? To survive outside this school? You won't always be living off mummy's money you know. Now then, is there any answer you have for me? Any explanation of your lack of dedication to this class?" he paused, and Ron sat in silence "None? Fine" he went back to his desk, and continued "Do not expect to be able to turn in this assignment late and get any credit, since everyone else managed to get theirs in," hissed the dark eyed teacher, and now that Hermione looked at him, his hair looked strangely clean, but maybe she just hadn't noticed it before.

Hermione sighed, why was it that she was always the one bailing Ron out of this stuff?

Luckily for Ron, Snape was called out of the room a few moments later. Apparently Peeves had been in his office again, and had knocked over a test tube rack, which, upon hitting the floor, shattered, and resulted in a minor explosion.

Careful to keep it under her desk, she pointed her wand in the direction of Gryffindor tower, and thinking of Ron's essay she had proofread the night before, whispered "accio potions essay."

About five minutes later, she heard a rustle under her chair, and upon investigation, saw a roll of parchment bearing Ron's distinct handwriting. Thank Merlin everyone was too busy with the complicated potion Snape had written the instructions for on the board, and had left them with the order that it was be completed by his return, to notice the parchment's arrival. She pulled it out form under her chair, and tapped Ron on the shoulder, dropping the essay next to his bag.

"Psst! Ron!" she whispered

"What?" he asked, concentrating on counting under his breath as he stirred his potion, or, what looked to be his attempt at the potion.

"By your bag, look!"

He glanced down to his bag, and grinned widely at her. He picked up his essay, looking at it incredulously, and kissed her softly on the cheek, "And that, is why I love you"

Meanwhile, in a dungeon not far away, a grey eyed boy slept on, blissfully hidden from the harsh light of day.

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**A/N #2: again, please please please please please please _please _review, I'll love you forever if you do! And just FYI, I only do one disclaimer per story, in the first chapter, and this one will be no different. REVIEW! . . . . . please?**


	4. contemplations and repercussions

If Hermione had thought the previous day's passing would lessen the gossip about Malfoy, she was wrong, for one reason. He was back. Sitting at the Slytherin table, Pansy Parkinson hanging all over him like a love struck puppy, was the Ice Prince himself, eating his breakfast as if it was any other day. Acting as if completely unaware of the blatant staring and fevered murmurs, if he was asked where he had been, he only responded that he was pulled out for an important family function.

Not for a second did Hermione believe all the crap about a family function. And ignoring Ron's dejected grumbling; she couldn't help but wonder where the secretive blonde boy had been. Snape never would have been that agitated if it was only a family function, even if it was the Malfoy family.

Mentally, she kicked herself. Why was she wondering about the whereabouts of that prat? Especially a prat that she was supposed to hate. Guilt swept over her suddenly that here she was, sitting next to the boy she was supposed to love, and she was obsessing over the hated boy across the room. Looking at him, Hermione had to admit that Ginny was right, Malfoy was hot, but Ron was different.

Ron had no secrets, he was always there for her, and would never even think of being unfaithful to her. Best of all, he loved her. Her mind wandered back to Malfoy. He hadn't always been that good looking. She remembered the scrawny boy with pointed features, his angles to sharp and expression too severe. But what had once been pointed had turned into regal and elegant as the years passed. perhaps hot wasn't the right word to describe him. He was beautiful, a feminine word that may be, but with his porcelain skin and long eyelashes, there was no other word that came to mind fitting enough.

Another mental kick. Why of all people was she thinking about Malfoy? Damnit. She needed a distraction, a good one. She glanced back at Malfoy, who was currently trying to get a simpering Pansy Parkinson off his arm, and she looked beside her, at the cute red head so utterly devoted to her. Perfect.

She tapped him on the shoulder, bringing him out of his staring contest with the golden plates as he waited for food to magically appear. There were two things that boy thought about, food and her. Ok, he thought about sex too, but that was many times in conjunction to her.

"Ron?"

"Yeah Her-" his words were interrupted by Hermione's lips meeting his in a deep kiss.

To say Ron was surprised would have been an understatement, but to say he was unhappy would have been a lie. Hermione had never been big on public displays of affection. She pulled away, and made a spilt second decision.

"Ron?"

"yeah?" he asked breathlessly, trying to regain his composure.

She leaned close to his ears and purred "I'm ready."

Hm. She hadn't even known that she was capable of purring. That was something she would have to remember.

His jaw dropped at her barley audible statement. Eventually he managed to muster the composure to stutter: "a-ar-are y-you sure?"

She nodded "Without a doubt"

Okay. So that was a bluff. But he loved her right? And she loved him right? So why not? Everyone expected them to get married anyway.

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Draco watched as Granger and the Weasel made out from the safe vantage point of the Slytherin table. Steely eyes lingered over her face. Instead of the passion that should have been present, there was in its place a kind of desperation, like this was the last thing she had left to cling to, hoping it would with stand the test of time. It wasn't the expression one should wear whilst kissing the one they loved. He pondered this. Maybe the mudblood didn't love the big oaf as she had always expostulated. He suddenly wanted to know if they had fucked yet. He cringed at the inevitable mental image as it swam into his consciousness. 

As far are girls went, he supposed she wasn't ugly, but she wasn't gorgeous either. He had seen better. Hell. He had _slept _with better.

Petite was the only way to describe her, her face was at times too round, her nose small, features delicate, but otherwise, it was ok, not wonderful, but ok. She was slender, with a moderate chest, and boyish hips. Not exactly the model female specimen. She was sometimes pretty, sometimes plain.

But over all, the scene before him almost made him gag. How could anyone want to kiss either of those people? Or kiss that badly. Granger seemed fine, but the Weasel looked like he was trying to eat her face.

Draco felt a pang of what might have been mistaken in anyone else as a stab of pity. No one deserved to be kissed that badly, even a mudblood (though why anyone would want to kiss her was beyond his comprehension). He wondered how she put up with it, or why. It seemed she knew she wasn't going to find another guy for long time if it didn't work out with the Weasel.

He continued to watch as the bushy haired girl broke the kiss and leaned forward to whisper something in the red head's ear.

That was another thing. That blasted hair. How could anyone stand that hair? It wasn't soft, it wasn't pretty, and it wasn't the kind of hair you could run your hands through. It was plain brown and frizzed beyond belief. One would think she would put a little more effort into her hair considering its state. Apparently not, for it looked exactly the same, every day, every year.

Anyway, what ever she said made the Weasel's eyes light up and his ears redden in quite and unflattering matter. He leaned forward and kissed her again. Was Draco seeing things, or did she make a barely imperceptible grimace at the touch of his lips on her own? She pulled away and said something to the girl next to her, a shock of flaming red hair told him that it was the Weaslette to whom she spoke.

The girl then got up from the table and walked briskly away, leaving her golden plate full of food, completely untouched.

The rest of his day was decidedly uneventful, and surprising it certainly was not. He of course got the expected lectures about the importance of attending class and the need to let people know and get permission for leaving school grounds. To all of this he flashed an angelic smile and promised to do better next time and that he appreciated their patience. He got off, from every teacher, completely unscathed. Draco Malfoy was after all, a master manipulator, it was one of his lesser known talents. The only teacher he ever had trouble with was McGonagal, and that was only because she was so damn suspicious.

The only thing that caught his attention was Granger. Or the lack there of. All through his classes with the Gryffindors, of which he had a few, there remained the conspicuous absence of a small hand in the air and a knowing voice with all the answers. The bushy haired girl looked subdued all day, and Draco had to mentally kick himself every time he found himself wondering why. Why would he care about a mudblood anyway? All the while her ape of a boyfriend looked like he had just won the lottery or something, and every time he glanced her way, that oafish grin returned.

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Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table, trying to summon up an appetite. All day she had been preoccupied with the repercussions of her announcement to Ron. Was she really going to go through with it? Half way through the meal, hers, really only cut up and moved, not eaten, Ron leaned over, swallowed and whispered "So...tonight then?" She knew she had to make a decision, it was speak up now or forever hold her peace, but she was still surprised, she never expected him to follow up on it this soon. She opened her mouth, ready to use one of her patented 'I've got too much work' excuses, but he was just sitting there, so excited and happy, she couldn't bring herself to say no. Hermione swallowed, and slowly nodded her head. 

His eyes sparkled as he kissed her cheek. "I'll meet you in the room of requirement at 10 kay?"

Unable to speak, she nodded, and with a wave of her delicate hand, sent his gaze, and concentration, back to Harry, sitting on his right looking expectant.

After all she had put him through, she finally had a way to pay him back. He was so adoring, so gentlemanly, so perfect, she just couldn't have brought herself to say no, no matter how her heart screamed for her to do just that.

All she wanted for him to be happy.


End file.
